


Forbidden love (Thomas Shelby x sister!reader)

by Thomassshelby



Category: Peaky Blinders
Genre: A kind of androgynous reader?, Angst, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Fluffy Smut, Happy Ending, Just tryna help a girl out, Lemon, Nothing wrong with having kinks, War PTSD, and help the kinky side of the Peaky fandom, hope I help ;)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-15
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2019-11-18 16:12:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18123539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thomassshelby/pseuds/Thomassshelby
Summary: Y/n and Tommy had been close growing up. Over the years, however, Y/n’s love for Tommy turned into something more and so did his for her. He was the big brother that protected her from everything; she fought beside him in the war for 4 years and even in the present, she was a Peaky Blinder{Story is set around season 2/3 ish but tbh it doesn’t really matter that much}





	1. Never again

Y/n and Tommy had been close growing up. He was the big brother that protected her from everything. Y/n stood by him through everything over the years, their disappearing father, the Peaky Blinders, they even fought in the war together, Y/n being the only girl in Birmingham able to fight for her country like the men - being a shelby with many violent men to back her up definitely helped. 

Over the years, however, Y/n love for Tommy turned into something more and so did his for her. He was the big brother that protected her from everything. When she became a Peaky Blinder without his permission he was furious obviously; but eventually realised he’d be able to keep her close again. 

A few rumours had gone around, not many, but enough to make Tommy burst out with bloody fights on more than one occasion, for any sort of talk about the unnatural bond they had. 

Lingering touches and longing glances were all they got. 

Y/n’s POV:

“One more?” Tommy asked me, but quickly replied instead, “One more,” he said, followed by a chuckle. 

“Oh god Tommy,” I laughed, “what’s gotten into you?” 

“I’m just in a good mood.” He gave a grin before getting up and heading out the private room. 

“Around you, yeah, but he’s miserable when he’s with us,” John chuckled. 

It was a Friday night at The Garrison. Me, Tommy, Arthur, John, Michael and Finn were sat around the table in our private room. Today had been much like many of the other Friday nights, but tonight Tommy seemed much more comfortable, confident you could say. This meant that every so often, he’d push another beer or whiskey in my direction, and obviously being a Shelby, I accepted each one. 

This nerved me slightly. 

When we were younger, no earlier than 15 years old, we’d stolen some rum from Aunt Polly’s drink cabinet. After only a few drinks and many shared giggles, an accidental kiss had occurred. 

All he need to do was glance for a few seconds at my lips, quickly causing the space between us to close. 

After about 10 seconds we parted. 

All I could think about was how much I wanted his lips on mine once again, but his face told me everything I needed to know; his eyebrows had furrowed, making lines in between, and the sides on his mouth no longer curled up to his ears in delight. He knew that what ever has just happened would be a one off. Never again, spoken of, even thought of or the family name would be looked down upon for centuries to come.


	2. Don’t make this any harder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy realises that the two of them had been looking at each other in an unatural way in public. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy ;)

I got up from my seat, resulting in a confused look from Micheal next to me “I’m going to see where Tommy got to,” I explained. He smiled and nodded. 

As I exited the private room, I saw Tommy by the bar, the bottle of dark whiskey he’d gone to get. He must have been talking to Grace but his head had turned slightly, allowing him to spot me, resulting in a smile spreading across his lips as he gazed towards me. 

He was handsome from the gentle expressions of his voice to the depth of how his eyes would light up after a joke from Arthur or John. People often spoke of the colour of eyes, as if that were of importance, yet his would be beautiful in any shade. From them comes an intensity, an honesty, a gentleness. Perhaps this is what is meant by a gentleman, not one of weakness or trite politeness, but one of great spirit and noble ways. What he is, what is beautiful about him, comes from deep within; it makes me want to feel how his lips move in a kiss, how his hands could follow the curves of my body.

He must have realised we’d been looking at each other in such a way, making his eyebrows slightly furrow. His head shook slightly, signalling we had to stop.

My mouth opened in shock and despair.

After, there’s no fight. Your fingers itch; you want a drink. Want him to shout. Want something louder than the silence stretching between you both.

I walk towards him for some sort of answer or maybe he could even take it back.

“Don’t make this any harder,” he says.  
I nod. I look at his side, sorrow greets my eyes.

Is he talking? Even if he was, I’m not listening. Does it matter what he’s saying? I know it’s my fault. It’s always my fault. No one ever says it, but I can do the math. The common denominator in all these failed fucking relationships has always been him. 

“I’m sor--,” he starts. 

“Save the bullshit,” I say, quickly swiping the near to escaping tear come from my right eye. “It’s fine.”

“Y/n-,”

“Just stop. Just... I need a drink.“ I grasped the whisky from in front of him, but his hand wrapped around mine. I always loved the way his hand felt on top of mine. 

“Tommy,” I breathed out. 

He wanted just as much as me, probably even more, I could tell by the way he gazed upon me. But it wasn’t possible. It was forbidden. Forever and never again. It didn’t make it hurt any less though, possibly even more. 

I removed my hand quickly, leaving him without looking back. 

And what will I do to solve this feeling? The only thing a shelby could do in a situation like this; get outrageously drunk and sleep with the most attractive man or woman at the bar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kinda small chapter sorry, next time it will be a bit longer <3


	3. You mean the fucking world to me

Mid morning in Small Heath, I sat by the table situated in the kitchen of our family home. I stared at my empty plate, thinking back to the night before. Reliving it. Overthinking it. Reliving it. 

“You’re up early,” I heard, making my head shoot up to see Polly wearing her usual attire. 

“Yea, I was um- I couldn’t sleep,” I murmured. 

“Them nightmares back?” She asked, concern laced in her words. 

“No,” I responded quickly; the night terrors were just one of the many wonders the war that had stayed with me. And due to my lack of sleep and visits across the hall to my brothers room, I had learned quickly that Tommy was experiencing them too. We helped each other a lot, but of course, our memories couldn’t be erased. 

Polly came closer. But suddenly, she pulled a face and her eyes squinted, like she was concentrating on her observation. “Come ‘ere,” she instructed. 

My brows furrowed in confusion but I obeyed, going to her, just a few metres away. Her eyebrows almost met while she placed her hand on my jaw to turn my head slightly. “Jesus, what’s Tommy going to say?” She asked rhetorically. 

She was referring to the very present scar, travelling straight through my eyebrow and eye, finishing by my cheek, accompanied by a bruise and a small cut down my lip. “Tommy isn’t going to say fuck all, it’s my life.”

“He’s going to kill him,” she said. “Come on, you know that.”

“What’s the big deal??” I questioned. “The guy didn’t even get far enough! I fucking defended myself!” I yelled. 

“He tried though and you know Thomas will-“

“Oh my fucking god! He has no right to control my life!!” I shouted. 

“What’s all the noise?” A familiar voice asked, making our heads turn; it was Tommy. He raised his eyebrows, and brought an unlit cigarette to his lips, letting it hang. 

“Fuck you,” I said, leaving as quick as I could. However, not quite enough to miss his reaction; the unlit cigarette falling from his gape mouth. 

After thoroughly questioning Polly, getting no detailed responses, Tommy’s only option was to find me. 

However, the search grew longer and the clouded sky darkened. Tommy had all his men searching, looking through every house in Birmingham, checking each ally way twice over. 

It was 4am. Thomas was out of luck and loosing hope quickly. It had been more than 12 hours since he’d seen me last - he remembered what clothes I was wearing, but by now I could have skipped the country. 

He’d been in my room three times now, hoping to see me laying on my bed, just like old times; when saying goodnight or on the rare occasion when he’d come home late from work and see me in his room, under his sheets, taking in his comforting scent. 

He felt himself unconsciously head towards the bed and sit himself down on the cold mattress. His hand drifted to my bedside that sat a framed picture of me, him, Arthur and John from the war. We were inseparable, before and the sickening events of the war, each of us irreplaceable to the next. How had it come to this? How did we come to this? Me and Tommy being the most inseparable of us all, hardly ever leaving the others side, always coming as a pair, our uncontrollable giggles, the lingering touches and the tension. Oh the tension. The tension neither of us had the balls to admit to ourselves, let alone act upon it. 

Tommy got up from the bed, placing the framed memory back down before heading to his own room. However a creek in the floorboards lead him to reach for the gun in his holster, ready to fire. But as he opened the door, he quickly realised the person at the other end of the gun wasn’t unfamiliar nor villainous at all, quite the opposite in fact. Sat on his bed was his own sister holding a half drank whisky bottle. 

“Where the fuck have you been? I’ve been looking all day,” He barely got out, his voice slightly cracking with concern. 

“You have no right to dictate my life,” I spoke, completely ignoring his question.

“Dictate? What the fucking do you mean?” He questioned. “If this is about the other day-“

“It’s not about the other fucking day!” I yelled. 

“Well what??”

“What are we doing Tommy?” I asked, “What is the point of all of this? You can’t even admit to yourself what’s happening.”

“Can’t admit it?” He repeated quietly, “can’t fucking admit it?! You mean the fucking world to me! Hell, I’d go through the war 5 time over just so I could protect you! We can’t just fuck around in front of people or we’ll get caught!” He snapped.

He searched for my response but must have seen my scar in the process. “What the fuck happened to your eye?” He asked, worry laced in his words. He came towards me, resting a hand on my jaw then running a calloused thumb softly across the wound. 

“Stop,” I said, my vision already getting blurred. My hands started to shove his chest, attempting to push him away, but his arms went for mine, trying to stop my rage as quick as possible. He pressed me up against the wall causing the tears to stream down my face. 

I closed my eyes in defeat. 

“What can I do to fix this?” His voice seemed strained. My eyes opened and I looked up to his orbs, quickly noticing his forming tears. 

He stared, his eyes darting around my stained face. He cupped my cheek that was slowly turning red and pause for a moment before slowly, more so hesitantly, lean into me. His other hand was shaking slightly, his mind repeating the same sentence over and over, "Don't do this... don't do this." But the volume of his heart beat was too loud, stoping any chances concentration. It felt like it was going to explode. 

Finally his lips touched mine. 

Sparks flew in every direction, and the world slowly disappeared around us, along with all of our worries, obstacles and complications. He made me feel like none of that mattered. It was a small yet warm kiss. I honestly never knew a kiss so innocent, could be so intimate and electrifying.

I was completely unprepared. You would think that after all the hours I'd spent with Tommy, watching him talk, laugh and even cry, imagining this moment, I’d be here approximately 20 years after our first kiss. 

But as much as reliving that memory over and over, nothing could prepare me for this, how warm his lips felt pressed up against my own.


End file.
